


Love is a Language

by RiaTheDreamer



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: But also Bisexual, Coming Out, Friendship, Grif is Bilingual, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, set in blood gulch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 05:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18131690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiaTheDreamer/pseuds/RiaTheDreamer
Summary: “Don’t look at me like I’m stupid,” Grif says during breakfast. His mouth is stuffed with cereal and a drop of milk trickles down his chin as he adds: “I’m bisexual.”That’s how Simmons’ gay crisis begins.





	Love is a Language

“Don’t look at me like I’m stupid,” Grif says during breakfast. His mouth is stuffed with cereal and a drop of milk trickles down his chin as he adds: “I’m bisexual.”

That’s how Simmons’ gay crisis begins.

Everything changes in a second. Suddenly Simmons can’t look at Grif. He can’t look at his brown eyes or his stupid grin or his morning stubbles. He can’t even look at that drop of milk that finally falls and splashes against the table surface.

“Oh,” he says and takes a lot of time to try to find a word in his now suddenly shrunken vocabulary that doesn’t begin with _O_ and ends with _H_. When he fails to do so, he takes a long sip of his coffee. His second “Oh” drowns in the black liquid.

“I’m so proud of you, Grif,” Donut says and wipes a tear from his eye before embracing Grif who has a spoon halfway to his mouth.

“Thanks?” he says, frowning. “I guess you thought I was too dumb to-“

“Don’t worry; this won’t change how we think about you,” Donut reassures him, and Grif’s frown turns annoyed as he pats him on the back.

“I don’t get why you’re so surprised,” he says. “I’m from Hawaii. You kinda have to be it if you live there.”

“Ah, yes,” Donut says, nodding thoughtfully. “Online dating can be brutal when you don’t have proper internet connection. You have to increase your chances. Life finds a way, and all that.”

“What?” Simmons says.

“What?” Grif says.

None of them get an explanation.

“I for one am happy that we are showing new secret sides of ourselves,” Donut says. “And if we really are sharing-“

“We’re not,” Grif and Simmons say in unison because they know that whatever can come from Donut’s mouth won’t be good.

“What’s yer mouths blabbering about now?” Sarge says and marches into the kitchen to tear open the fridge and empty his bottle of Strawberry Yoo-hoo in one go.

“Grif’s bisexual,” Donut says.

“Hewutnow?”

Grif is finished with his cereal now and he stands up and leaves his empty bowl behind for Simons to take care of. “Why is this such a big surprise?” he mutters, glaring at Sarge from a safe distance.

“Who says it is?” Sarge snaps back at him. “But you ain’t waltzing around the base being loud about it like some people.”

“Like Lopez?” Grif says.

“You mean Donut,” Simmons corrects him. Unless he’s missed out on Lopez leaving the closet (not counting the storage closet where he stays at night).

“What I’m saying is,” Sarge continues, “this base allows it. I accept it. It won’t change my hatred for you.”

“…Thanks?”

“I will hate you just as much as before!”

“I think we should have a party to celebrate!”

Donut’s suggestion earns a heavy sigh from Grif. “Donut, you want to throw a party for everything. Last week you celebrated us missing a shot against the Blues for the two hundred fiftieth time.”

“Still a bigger event than this, numbnuts.”

“See, you don’t believe me,” Grif declares and he actually looks genuinely disappointed with them and suddenly something twists in Simmons’ stomach and he is sure that it’s all the secret feelings clawing their way forward because Grif decided to have a sexual revelation in the middle of breakfast. “Should I just prove it?” Grif asks them.

“No,” Sarge barks.

“Yes,” Donut squeals.

“Yes,” Simmons says and they all turn their head to stare at him. Even Grif with his big brown bisexual eyes. “I mean, no.”

“You’re all assholes,” Grif says. Before he leaves he grabs a snack bar from the counter and sends a nasty glare in Simmons’ direction.

When he’s left, it’s quiet, and the repressed emotions squirm like eels inside of Simmons.

Who says they’re bisexual during breakfast?

Dinner Simmons could get behind, but breakfast?!

Now he has the whole day in front of him to think about what this means.

“Did you know?” Sarge asks him.

“How should I have known?” he says and almost forgets his respect before he adds, “sir.”

“You two are awfully chummy together,” Sarge hums.

And then he turns and stares at him, and it’s like facing his dad all over again, and gods, now his father issues are making his way to the surface along with the g-word and _it’s only breakfast_.

“I’m not g-“ Simmons tries but chokes on the word. “ _Igottagotothebathroom_ ,” he says and his voice breaks twice.

* * *

The thing is that Simmons doesn’t disapprove of Grif’s reveal.

He just hasn’t thought it’s possible.

Not Grif being bisexual but the fact that you can, apparently, just say that you’re bisexual with your mouth full of cereal and nonchalant shrug. Simmons has never imagined a way of breaking the heteronormative expectations that doesn’t involve his father staring down at him, saying he is disappointed, and his mother is crying in the background, and the word _disappointment_ is thrown in through air over and over and Simmons is quiet and he’ll never say it out loud again, especially not in front of Red team, especially not during breakfast.

And he will never ever say it with his mouth full of milk.

That’s just rude.

* * *

He finds Grif on the roof with a cigarette in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Simmons says and is disappointed when the word doesn’t make his eternal struggles magically go away. Life is unfair. “It doesn’t, you know, change anything.”

“Why should it?” Grif asks and shrugs, and he is so casual about it that it hurts.

“I don’t know.”

Grif narrows his eyes at him. “You still don’t believe it.”

“Of course I do!” he shrieks because is this supposed to be a bonding sessions but it’s going all wrong and Simmons hasn’t even revealed his secret yet. “You just weren’t, you know, obvious about it.”

“I can use my mouth for other stuff than eating, you know,” Grif says, sounding sour.

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.” He flickers his cigarette and blows smoke in his direction. “Do you really want me to prove it to you?”

Simmons’ jaw drops. “You’re going to prove it with your mouth?” he says slowly. He can no longer feel his tongue. It’s numb, and he can’t remember if it’s always felt like that. His entire brain is too filled with images of Grif in strange forbidden positions doing things with his mouth that Simmons has never thought possible, and, oh god, he needs to change the subject _right now_.

“How else am I gonna do it?”

He considers it for a moment but his cheeks are too hot and the warmth is spreading down through his body and he needs to leave.

“ _Igottagotothebathroom_ ,” Simmons says for the second time in fifteen minutes. 

* * *

“We’re gonna throw a party for Grif,” Donut declares when he comes downstairs.

“What?” Simmons says. “Why?”

Donut rolls his eyes at him and breaks two eggs into what is supposed to be a cake dough. “Because he’s bisexual.”

“…So again; why?”

“I thought you above homophobia, Simmons,” Donut says and tsks at him. There’s an irony in this that Simmons doesn’t feel ready to point out yet. “Plus, he’s from _Hawaii_.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Don’t you be racist, too!” When Sarge enters the kitchen, Donut whips around to face him and pieces of liquid dough flies from his spoon to hit the red armor in the process. “Sarge, should we invite the Blues?”

“No!” Sarge says before asking, “What are we not inviting them to?”

“The party for Grif!”

“That’s not happening,” Sarge says. “I will be resting in my grave before you see me support Grif in any physically and visible sense.”

“To be fair,” Simmons points out by instinct, “I think Grif is going to hate this.”

“You think?”

He nods. “I am positively sure, sir.”

“Huh.”

And that’s how Red Team decides to throw a party for Grif.

* * *

Donut only has one banner ready for the occasion. Unfortunately, it says “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”.

Fortunately, that’s nothing that a marker can’t fix.

“Happy bi day?” Grif reads out loud, craning his neck to the point where it might snap. “This is new.”

“You can’t come in yet,” Simmons tells him. “Donut is still trying to fit inside the cake.”

Grif visibly grimaces and Simmons can’t blame him. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Sorry about before,” Simmons says and wrings his hands. He’s been doing that a lot. He should stop. He starts shifting the weight on his feet instead. “I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s my culture, Simmons,” Grif says. “You shouldn’t make fun of it.”

Simmons wants to be that proud of his identity too. He’s rarely seen Grif stand up for anything before, but there’s a stern look in his eyes that challenges Simmons, and Grif wins.

Grif wins and Simmons has to say it out loud.

“I feel you,” he says. “Or, I mean, it’s not the same, but still, it’s sorta- We’re going against the heteronormative society and all that?”

“Huh?” Grif says.

“Of course Donut is all about, but it’s- We can be different. I’ve never- I’ve never said this before except the time with my dad and he didn’t- He was disappointed.” Simmons bites his lip and stares at the ground. “But then you said- Well, you said you were bisexual and I thought- If you thought I didn’t, oh god, I didn’t _support_ you, but I do, I mean, we’re in the same place. No, I get that, gay and bisexual isn’t quite the same but there are still men- sometimes naked, I don’t know – involved and-“

“Simmons,” Grif says and stops the train wreck that is called Simmons’ gay crisis. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“…Naked men?”

“ _But why_?!”

“You’re bisexual!”

“What does that have to do with naked men?!”

“At least half of it!” Simmons yells. “I guess! I know it’s not like fifty/fifty but-“ He stops and blinks, and suddenly it’s like seeing everything in a new light again. Like when Grif dropped the bomb during breakfast. First now he sees the genuine confusion in Grif’s expression, his big eyes that are so lost and he is so, so stupid. “Grif,” he says very slowly, “what do you think bisexual means?”

“That I can speak two languages? Aloha ‘auinalā, Simmons.”

Simmons can literally hear the _click_ inside his head. “Oh my god,” he says. “ _Oh my god_.”

“So why are you telling me you’re gay?” Grif asks him, and Simmons’ world crashes for the second time.

“Because,” he says faintly and licks his lips, “you said you’re bisexual. Grif, that word means you like both men and women.”

“Oooooooh,” Grif says, like a toddler being told that an apple is a fruit. “Right. I’m that too.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Simmons says and is very sure that he is about to faint. At least there’s no crying going on this time. And Grif’s eyes are way softer than his father’s that could only be described as piercing daggers.

“But about you being gay; I totally support you. Hasn’t changed my hatred for you at all.”

“Shut up,” Simmons says and feels his cheeks burn again.

Grif cracks a smile at him. “Now you know how it feels. At least you know Sarge and Donut won’t freak out about it. Well, not that much.”

“I’m not-“

“Chill, I won’t tell them. ‘sides, we gotta stick together against the heterosociative society-“

“-heteronormative,” Simmons corrects him.

“-and all that. So, we cool?”

“Yeah,” Simmons says, nodding. His heart is starting to slow down, just a little. “Yeah…”

“Great. And we are definitely not thinking about naked men or anything.”

“ _Grif_.”

He laughs and looks normal and it feels normal, and that’s good. Grif always laughs at him but his smile hasn’t been this soft before. “Aloha au ia ʻoe,” he says and squeezes his hand and looks so smug that Simmons can’t help but pout.

But still:

“That is cool,” he says and wishes his Spanish was better.

“Of course it is,” Grif says proudly. It's a nice look on him, and Simmons won't mind seeing that confidence on him more often. “Hey, Simmons,” he says as they head together inside the base, ducking their heads beneath the HAPPY BI ~~RTH~~ DAY banner. “Just know that this counts for your coming out party.”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel you, Simmons. I came out during dinner like a normal being (just kidding. you all come out whenever you feel comfortable with it, alright. but yeah, that's a truth fact, I came out to my parents during dinner and cried into my pizza. Now I'm oversharing. I still ate the pizza by the way)
> 
> Okay, so during my Discourse and Society course we watched a video with a man who confused the words bisexual and bilingual, and I thought about how Grif would misunderstand and mispronounce words during Blood Gulch and I quickly just threw this piece together this afternoon. I hope you like it, i had way too much fun with it.
> 
> As always: English isn't my native language and you can find me as riathedreamer on tumblr and twitter.


End file.
